


On the Edge

by TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy



Series: Hartcroft [5]
Category: Kingsman (Movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Consensual, Knifeplay, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, lots of sappy soft idiots though, no actual blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28363377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy/pseuds/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy
Summary: Harry teaches Greg how to use the knife.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Greg Lestrade, Harry Hart | Galahad/Mycroft Holmes, Harry Hart | Galahad/Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Hartcroft [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765309
Kudos: 32





	On the Edge

Greg let the knife’s edge glide gently over the back of his forearm under Harry’s watchful eyes.

“Christ, that’s sharp enough to cut me if I blow on it…”

“That’s why I said you have to experience it on your own skin first, otherwise you’ll never be able to handle it properly,” Harry said and took the knife away from him as if he was a child playing with a forbidden toy. It certainly felt like it.

Mycroft was hovering in the background, busy with their dinner in the kitchen, happy to leave his partners to their educational session. Greg glanced at him occasionally but he either paid them no mind or was very good at pretending. Probably the latter.

“I described the basics to you before. Do you remember them?”

“How could I forget?” Greg replied. 

It had been an all around memorable evening with a bound Mycroft and a very concentrated Harry hovering over him, explaining every step to Greg. He had thought that maybe the act of explaining would lessen the enjoyment for Mycroft, but he’d gotten quite a kick out of playing the defenseless experimental subject.

“Mhm. I’m going to quiz you later. Can’t be too careful, love.”

“Of course.”

“Now My, would you cover your ears for a second?” Harry asked.

“A moment… just going to flip this… alright, tell Gregory your little secrets.”

Greg looked behind himself to see Mycroft with his back to them, hand over his ears. He turned back towards Harry, a question on his face. Harry put two other tools next to the knife.

“Here’s the secret: Knives work for me because they instill fear. Mycroft knows I would never hurt him, but being bound at the mercy of a blade… especially with his history in field work? It works every time.”

“Why does he let you do it, if he has bad memories?” Greg wondered.

“I asked him the same. He said that the edge makes it better. That’s his choice and I respect it. He also knows he can tap out at any time. As can I. This goes both ways.”

Greg nodded sagely. “Makes sense. Now wha—”

“Hate to interrupt, but I have to check the oven,” Mycroft said from the other side of the room.

“Go ahead,” Harry said. 

Greg had almost missed how Harry had drawn a cloth over the tools, like a smooth magic trick. They waited for Mycroft to rummage around and then he excused himself to fetch something.

“Why are we doing this here if he shouldn’t hear what you’re talking about?” Grev asked.

“Because he trusts me with this and I want to let him see that I’m training you to be just as reliable,” Harry answered and took a sip of coke. No alcohol tonight.

“Alright, yeah. So what are these for?”

Harry folded back the cloth to show the first tool: The knife Greg had already tested.

“That’s the primary knife. It’s quite large. It needs to be. Most of it is psychological. He gets to see it before the blindfold goes on. Then as soon as that’s on, I change the blade for one I can hold and manipulate better.”

Harry picked up a small scalpel, the blade glinting in the light.

“This one’s for the actual cuts, since I rarely ever draw blood, and need a small, sharp blade to cut through only the top layers of the skin. Mostly, though, I use this one.”

He put the last tool into Greg’s hands. It was just a square shaped metal rod.

“I keep all of them cold… so when I glide over the skin with this, it can feel like a shallow cut when you’re excited and blind, without ever hurting the other person. The scratch alone is a lot when you’re keyed up. With this I can also stray to where a knife would be too dangerous, like the inside of the thigh.”

“But when you let me watch, you only used the regular knife.”

“Since Mycroft was also watching… and I only worked on the front of his thighs and his face that time.”

Greg swallowed. “I wouldn’t mind you above my own face with that thing sometime.”

“Yeah?” Harry mused and let his fingers glide up Greg’s thigh. “Would that… excite you?”

Before Greg could answer, he'd grabbed him through the trousers and squeezed. Greg let out a choked off moan. Just then Mycroft arrived in the kitchen again, set something down and came to stand behind Greg, both hands on his shoulders.

“Is that part of the lesson?”

“Sure,” Harry said with a wink.

“It’s not!” Greg said and was rewarded with another squeeze.

“Please spare a thought for me. Greg told me he’d like for me to cut up his face and I’m supposed to not react?”

Mycroft chuckled, leaned down and nibbled on Greg’s ear. “You’re excused. Gregory is too delicious to keep your hands off him anyway.”

“Isn’t he just?”

Harry leaned forward and captured his lips while he kept massaging him… and Greg sighed contently between the two men, one hand in Harry’s hair, the other on Mycroft’s hand, where it held his head.

“Is this heaven?” he mumbled.

“No. This is,” Harry replied and smoothly went to his knees to nuzzle Greg’s cock through his trousers.

Greg’s curses were swallowed by Mycroft’s lips on his, just as Harry swallowed him down and sucked. Hard. He put both hands in Harry’s hair and pulled equally as hard. The answering moan made the hairs on his body stand up. 

“Harry, dear,” Mycroft whispered in between scorching kisses. “Do hurry up and finish what you started. We don’t want dinner to burn.”

Harry hummed around Greg, who cursed some more. Mycroft let his hands roam lower to pinch Greg’s nipples and that was it. He didn’t stand a chance. It was a good thing they held him down as he twitched and cried as he came. Harry pulled off him with a smug grin.

“Thanks for the amuse-bouche,” he quipped.

“Don’t ruin your appetite. Share,” Mycroft said and pulled him up.

Greg had to avert his eyes as they kissed, lest he spontaneously combusted. When they parted he looked up as he tucked himself back in.

“Honestly…” Mycroft said and licked his lips, but his smile was all too fond to mean it.

“One would think you’re both 18.”

“Us?” Harry asked while he swooped behind Mycroft into the kitchen to help with plating. “You’re the one who came so quickly.”

“That wasn’t really my fault…”

“So, now you’re complaining?”

Greg grumbled and only after he saw the other two grin at him realised that he did exactly what they always called ‘so adorable’. He threw up his hands and grabbed his phone to look at something else. He was engrossed in some article when Harry put a plate in front of him.

“You’re not actually mad, are you?” he asked.

Greg softened. Harry knew he wasn’t, but for all the self-assured bravado, deep down he was still afraid of the smallest amount of rejection, clinging to Mycroft and him like a very grumpy koala. Greg often wondered what had happened in his past to make him like this, but he hadn’t had the courage to ask just yet.

“All good, love. All good.” He drew Harry down into a sweet kiss, both smiling against each other's lips. “How could I be mad with you? You’re the sweetest, most cuddly nightmare assassin I have ever met.”

Harry bubbled with laughter and all was well. They shared a very pleasant meal, talking about anything and everything until they finished dessert. Harry thoughtfully licked his spoon as he fixed Greg with a calculating stare.

“If you let me, I’d love to use my knives on you tonight. I feel ill at ease letting you use them without experiencing the other side first. It’s almost impossible to judge the impact. Of course everyone is different, but…”

“No, I get it. So someone taught you how to do it too?”

“That’s right. During agent training there was a very attractive young man in my class… And he had very particular tastes. We kept in touch after he dropped out due to his mother’s request… and, well. Had some fun. He was a master. I can only attempt to be as good as him.”

“So you’d like to be on the receiving end again some time?” Greg asked.

“Very astute observation. Yes, that would be nice. My has no interest in holding the blade, but you might do wonderfully.”

“I’m sorry,” Mycroft said.

“Don’t ever be sorry for telling me frankly what you want and don’t want, Mycroft Holmes,” Harry said in a tone which left no room for argument.

“Yes, love.”

“That goes for you too, Greg.”

“Yes, Harry.”

They smiled at each other for a moment, then Harry put his spoon down. “Of course I will also tell you. For now, though… My, would you go ahead to the bedroom and ready the restraints? I’ll let Greg prepare the tools this time.”

“Alright. Don’t be too long.”

“We won’t. And My?”

“Yes?”

“How would you like to fuck him after?”

Mycroft’s face lit up. “Oh? I assumed you…”

“Nah, I’d rather watch you have your way with him while he’s floaty. That’s more than enough of a reward for me.”

Mycroft smiled and was gone. Greg helped Harry collect and prepare the tools, antiseptic, gauze and so on, put them all onto an ornately decorated tray. Carrying them like this felt… weird. Like official business, like carrying the coffee to the queen. He looked down at all the things…

“You’re only going to use the actual knife since Mycroft is watching, right?”

“Like he hasn’t figured it out by now, but yes. The back of the knife has a similar effect to the metal rod… and since I’ll be mostly working on your face, I prefer it for the optics. Don’t worry, I can manipulate it just fine.”

“Will it heal in time? I mean, it’s a long weekend, but…”

Harry stepped up to him and put his fingers under Greg’s chin. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. Though I can’t deny my desire to see blood running down your face…”

Greg almost dropped the tray when Harry licked along his cheek. A shiver ran through his body.

“Fuck… Harry…”

“Mycroft will see to that later. Now, go ahead.”

Everything was already in a haze. Greg let himself be undressed, laid down on the bed. Mycroft gently bound his hands and feet to the four bedposts. Not tight enough to impair circulation, but enough so he wouldn’t move and hurt himself. Belatedly he realised he was hard already… cock straining against his pants. Harry straddled his hips and put both hands on Greg’s chest, stroking lightly.

“Sshh, calm down. I want you excited, but not so much you directly pass out. If you work yourself up too much I’ll have to make you come again before we start.”

“No. I want to be… I want to be on edge… please…”

“As you wish. Now take some deep breaths.”

Greg slowly calmed his breathing while Harry stroked along his sides, luring him down, down, down… He almost forgot why he was there in the first place, when Harry placed one hand flat on his chest and turned his head.

“My, darling, the knife please.”

Greg followed Mycroft with his eyes until Harry grabbed his chin and forced him to look up again. “No, no, love. You focus only on me, alright?”

Greg swallowed, but nodded.

“Good boy. Now you stay very, very still. If you move too much I will stop. I will not have you injure yourself by mistake.”

“Yes.”

“You will not speak until I allow it. Speaking is also moving, since it’s your face.”

Greg nodded.

“Very good,” he said and moved his hips forward, so that Greg could feel just how much his obedience turned him on. Greg released a muffled moan.

Then… something sharp and glinting came into view. Greg hadn’t been quite prepared for how visceral his reaction would be. Thinking about it rationally, of course he would react with a jolt of startled fear. A knife meant danger. If he saw one during work, it meant injury or death. To let himself be bound and at the mercy… Greg took a deep breath.

“Are you alright? You may speak if I ask you.”

“Yes, I think I am. I just… it’s just…”

“A lot, I know. It’s supposed to be. But you can never know how you react before you actually try it. If you want me to stop at any time, just tell me. Speak and I will stop. Otherwise stay quiet.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

Harry gently stroked his own fingers along the blade, letting the light reflect off it. He lowered it and stroked the side along Greg’s cheek. Something in Greg flipped as the cold metal came into contact with his skin. His skin broke out into goosebumps, his heart sped up and his treacherous cock twitched under Harry’s, filling out harder than he could ever remember.

“Ah… Yes, fear can do that to you. Just enjoy it, darling.”

Harry turned the knife on its back and drew the unsharpened side down Greg’s cheek. He’d been right. It felt… it felt like a cut, for a moment. The weight, the scratch… the tension. He could see now what Mycroft loved about this. It was… exhilarating in a way that he’d seldom experienced. But it wasn’t just the knife… it was Harry, looming over him, sweat on his skin, eyes wide and wild, tongue darting out to lick his lips every now and then. He was… beautiful like this.

“I’m going to cut you now. I won’t draw blood. Alright?”

Greg mewled ineffectively.

“Words, darling.”

“Yes.”

“Better. Brace yourself.”

He put the knife on Greg’s left cheek and pressed down ever so slightly. There was a sting, a burn that followed as the tip of the knife ran down his skin. It hurt. It hurt a lot. It was also… he couldn’t describe it. Good? Cathartic? Hot? He didn’t know. Then Harry raised the knife again and put it to the side, possibly into Mycroft’s hands.

“I love you,” Greg breathed.

Harry looked altogether too fond to admonish Greg for breaking his order. He leaned down and gently licked across Greg’s lips, then turned his face to look at the cut. He held out a hand and Mycroft placed something in it, which he immediately applied to the wound. It hurt! It burned! Greg strained against his ropes, but they held steadfast, so he could merely groan and move his head… or try to, since Harry had his chin in an iron grip, his hips pinned beneath him.

“Ah, ah, darling… You hold still for me while I patch you up again.”

“Ha—”

“What did I say about speaking?”

Greg groaned.

“That’s better. Now let me do another.”

From somewhere he had gotten the knife again, put it a little bit lower than the previous cut and drew another line. Then another. Greg was panting. He imagined the cuts to look red and angry.

“God, Greg… I really just want to mess you up…” Harry said as he had given up the blade again, grinding down against Greg’s body, rubbing them together. “I want to make you bleed and lick the blood off your skin…”

Greg moaned underneath him, the cuts on his cheek hurting when he moved his mouth.

“I know you want it too, but I won’t do it today. Maybe if we ever do this again. Or maybe I’ll let you do it to me…”

The antiseptic was back, rubbed on with a cotton ball. Greg’s eyes were full of tears, overspilling at the burn. But he was also so goddamn hard. More than the pain, it was the trust between them that turned him on. There was nothing more arousing to him than the fact that he could give himself to Harry so completely, no matter what they were doing. That this literal secret agent assassin was so soft on him.

“Alright, we’re done. You may speak again.”

“Fuck me. Fuck me right now!” Greg said immediately. “Please!”

Harry burst out laughing. “Mycroft, if you would?”

“With pleasure.”

Greg felt the pull on his legs lessen, which meant that Mycroft had untied the ropes down there. Just then Harry stood up and the weight leaving him, combined with the adrenaline high made him feel like he was floating away. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, making a low rumbly noise down in his chest. Mycroft crawled up from the foot of the bed, letting his hands glide up his legs, drawing Greg’s pants down.

“Now you know why we put the plug in before. Because it would be agony to wait now,” Mycroft whispered against Greg’s skin. “Believe me, I know.”

Greg was still crying softly, the burn on his cheek a constant reminder, making his brain fuzzy and always kinda not quite there. Mycroft spread his legs and pulled slowly on the plug while stroking Greg’s cock like a promise.

“Please Myc…” Greg breathed.

“Shhh, I’ve got you.”

He twisted the plastic out and replaced it immediately with his cock. Greg wailed. It was so good, so good… The slight burn in counterpoint to the one on his face, Mycroft above him, scratching his chest while he rocked into him. He didn’t know how much time had passed until Mycroft picked up speed, but suddenly everything felt urgent and hot. He cried out as the orgasm took him by surprise, clenching around Mycroft, pulling at the ropes.

“Christ, Gregory…” Mycroft said and followed him over, spilling deep inside.

Greg took a while to come down, Mycroft untying his wrists and holding him close, stroking his hair until he calmed, muffled sobbing audible from time to time.

“All better now?” Mycroft asked him, kissing his head.

“Yes, I think I’m good now,” he said, relishing the close hold.

The bed behind him dipped and Harry’s hands appeared on his hips. He kissed his ear and snuggled in from behind.

“Mycroft was always better at this than I ever could be.”

“You are a marvel when you take care of me, dear,” Mycroft countered.

“Well, I do love you.”

“I love you too,” Mycroft replied.

“Love you both…” Greg whispered and buried his face into Mycroft’s shoulder. “I might need some practice before I can be as good as Harry… but I am willing to try if you trust me.”

“Darling, I trust you with my life,” Mycroft said and kissed him.

“Seconded.”

“You utter saps,” Greg laughed.

“Maybe. Now let me bandage your cheek properly.”

“Yes, Harry.”

He sat up and looked over to the mirror, then stood up to observe himself closer. The three lines were perfectly aligned, running from near his ear towards his mouth. They were thin, but they were angry, a bit swollen. For a moment Greg thought he wouldn’t mind if they stayed forever. Maybe he would ask Harry to cut him somewhere less visible and let it scar.

“You’re pretty like this,” Harry said, embraced him from behind. “Mine.”

“Yours,” Greg said and squeezed Harry’s hands. “Thank you. That was… that… wow.”

“I had hoped it would be. Thank you for trusting me.”

Harry kissed Greg’s neck and made him giggle.

“Wait, did you…”

“I did. Watching you and Mycroft. I was so hard, it wasn’t really difficult.”

“Oh, alright. Good.”

“Yes, very good. Now let me see that cheek…”


End file.
